The Darkest Hour
by Dream Keeper
Summary: One of the Gboys contemplates a relationship gone bad.


Standard yada. I do not own Gundam Wing. sniffs I wish I did but I don't. The G-boys and girls belong to their respectable owners. I am just using them for this twisted fic. I promise to return them, only slightly worse for the wear when I'm through with them.

Review if you like, flame if you want to. I don't care. Just enjoy my spur-of-the-moment writing while I'm in an angst mood.

Quotes belong to their respective persons. A list of persons is included at the end. Look there. Quotes were obtained from just to give full credit.

This story was written with no particular character in mind, although it probably fits 1x2 best, use your own favorite pairing. Narrative done from inside a person's mind.

In a real dark night of the soul it is always three o'clock in the morning. A wise person said that. I'm really not sure who right now. All I know is that for days the clock in my mind has been frozen there. Three o'clock.

Time marches by and everyone around me remains oblivious to what I'm feeling. I wonder if they even know that we're not together anymore? Hell, half the time I don't even remember it. Its just too… wrong. We've been together for so long. The war brought us close. We even shared a bed on a few missions. Not just for sex, but also for comfort; both two scared children trying to find their way in the world. Sleep never came easy for either of us. We'd lay there staring at whatever was over our heads at the time and just… talk.

Not about anything in particular but it was meaningful. We talked about family, friends, dreams. The possibilities were endless then. We'd even talked about settling down together after the war was over and getting established, maybe even starting a family. I know that we would never have been able to have biological children, but there was always the option of adopting. Gay parents aren't unheard of now days.

He was only supposed to be away for a few years. He'd gone to college to get a degree. I know he's the best at what he does, but that doesn't get anyone places without a degree, even if they are a savior of the ESUN. People still look down on us as children. So we were forced apart. I chose to go the vocational track while he went to college.

At first everything was fine. I called regularly and he picked up the phone and listened to me talk. He's never been one for words, you know? And he'd catch me on the computer, since that was _his_ choice of communication. We kept in touch that way a lot more. But that was fine with me. I just liked knowing that my lover was still alive.

I still just can't believe he'd do that to me.

We took a trip to earth before he headed off for L-5. It was sweet. We spent the time at a resort with hot springs. It was nice just to be able to lie in bed all day and not have to get up unless we wanted to. Or soak in the springs at odd hours of the morning. For once we actually had the time to relax and just be teenagers. He took me out to the movies for the first time then. Open displays of affection have never been his thing, but he did it; for my birthday no less. I was really touched. But the sweetest thing came the day we left.

My lover gave me a promise ring.

Most people would not understand the significance of what it meant to me, but it meant the world. It meant that we'd put the war entirely behind us, like we'd talked about, and were never going to let it run our lives again. It meant a promise of him coming back. It meant trust and hope and dreams.

Somewhere along the line things changed. He stopped picking up the phone so often. I just thought it was because he was under a lot of stress because of school. When you're taking twice the workload of everyone else just to get through quickly you're bound to buckle under the stress sometimes. I passed it off as nothing more. But then he stopped contacting me as often on the net. I'll admit I was hurt by that. We'd had a few fights, but nothing to stop communicating over. And that's what happened. The communication stopped.

He didn't contact me for weeks. I knew something was wrong. I was so worried that I even took time off of school to fly to L-5 and see what was wrong. I still had a copy of his schedule so I went to his school and stood outside his classroom, but when the hour was over he never immerged with the other students. So I went to the registry desk and asked if he was sick. Normally schools don't give out information about their students but the girl behind the desk evidently saw the ring I was wearing and understood my concern about not finding him. She looked him up in the computer but finally had to admit that there was no one registered under his name.

I don't even remember leaving and getting into my car, but somewhere along the line I ended up in front of his apartment. I knocked on the door but it wasn't my lover that answered. Geoff obviously recognized my voice when I enquired about my partner because he smiled at me and let me into the apartment without any deception. He told me that my lover was sleeping and directed me to his door.

I went in but the last thing I expected to find awaited me. My lover was covered in bandages all over his body. They did not entirely enshroud him but he looked like a partially unwrapped mummy. He woke when I first entered the room and when his eyes fell on me he looked like a deer in the headlights.

I asked him what happened and he said there'd been an explosion in one of the labs at the college. He started to say more but I was so angry with him. I slapped him. I'd never struck anyone in anger before and he knew it. And he also knew that he'd been caught in a lie.

He proceeded to tell me that he'd actually joined the Preventers and quit school. They needed him to help put out "fires" that were springing up in the wake of our new found peace. And he actually cried and told me how sorry he was.

I don't know what I said. I wanted so badly to scream and rant and rave at him. There was a dragon inside of me seething, begging to be let out to vent its furry. But somehow I kept it locked inside. All I allowed myself to do was let my tears fall silently as I took off my ring and handed it back to him. He looked at me in utter disbelief until I turned away from him and left. Geoff didn't stop me. He just nodded his understanding at my silence as I brushed past him.

Now I'm back here at my own place contemplating the worth of my life as it still is. The crimson blood flows so lovely from the many gashes on my body. I won't die from the wounds, but it momentarily freezes the daemon inside of me; the one that begs for my death. And little by little it kills my heart. One tiny piece at a time. But its worth it in the end. It gives me an armor that is impenetrable. Someone once told me that "Pain of mind is worse than pain of body." The person was right.

What hurts the most is that I can't stop loving him. I'll probably just keep loving him until the day that I die. And there is no end in sight for the torturous hell that I'm going through now. Time heals all wounds? Ha! Time heals nothing. Time makes wounds fester and grow, just as surely as the sun raises in the east.

I can't be with him because I could never trust him again. He betrayed the thing that meant the most to me: peace for us. My trust is shattered beyond repair. Yet my heart yearns after the one thing that I cannot go back to.

So during the day I smile and laugh and put on a facade that no one can see through anymore. And at night I lay in my bed and scream like a tortured thing. I cry and curse him in every tongue that I know. Yet still that is not enough to begin to ease my hurt. Death twitches my ear. 'Live,' he says, 'I am coming.' But I do not want to wait for him.

I learned from this that people cannot live on dreams, just as we cannot sustain ourselves with love. So I watch my blood pool onto the floor every night and hope that every time it takes a little more of that seductive "L"-word with it. And every night I pray that my hand will slip, that the knife will cut too deep. Then death will only be able to tell me "I'm here." There is even a note pinned to the door for whoever finds me to read.

"In one way or another I've always suffered. I didn't know why exactly, but I do know that I'm not so scared of suffering now. I feel more than I've ever felt and I've found someone to feel with, to play with, to love in a way that feels right for me. I hope he knows that I can see that he suffers too, and that I want to love him."

I know he will understand what I mean.

Goodbye

Quotes in order:

F. Scott Fitzgerald

"Sententiae," Publilius Syrus

"Minor Poems, Copa ," Virgil (Publius Vergilius Maro)

Secretary movie


End file.
